


Shallow

by Anonymous



Series: Stupid Deep [2]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Anal Fingering, Big Dick Richie Tozier, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Body insecurity, Comeplay, Finger Sucking, Insecurity, M/M, Richie Tozier's Dad Bod, Size Difference, Size Kink, and the MAIN POINT IS:, but that's why i'm here, chest fucking, guess who's back with some, haha WHEW, i don't know what to tag it, internalized fatphobia??? just a little, or maybe, tit fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:08:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23778157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “Richie,” Eddie says seriously. “I look at you every day. I like looking at you.”Richie shrugs again. He tugs on the ends of his hoodie strings. “Can’t see why,” he mutters.Eddie is struck dumb. He can’t— He can’t seewhy? He can’t see why?“I’m sorry, is it not obvious by how often I lose my mind over how badly I want to have sex with you?”
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Stupid Deep [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1512914
Comments: 87
Kudos: 885
Collections: Anonymous





	Shallow

**Author's Note:**

> this is twitter's fault HOOHOO do not perceive me. takes place somewhere between Stupid Deep and Over and Over!

Eddie’s favourite place to be in the morning—or any time of day, really—is on top of Richie, between his legs. 

Not even in a sexy way or anything. Not that he would object. It’s just. _Really_ comfortable to lie on top of Richie, stomach-to-stomach, cradled between his thighs. There’s something about the full-body contact that’s satisfying and comforting, and the way Eddie fits against him. And it’s warm, and soft, and Richie can play with his hair, and Eddie can tuck his arms around Richie and rest his head on his very nice chest. And everything smells like him and honestly it’s just ideal. Eddie would stay here forever if he could. 

Richie, unfortunately, does not agree. 

“Eds, get off me,” he says, his voice thick and hoarse in the morning. 

“No,” Eddie says, pushing his face into the dip between his pecs. It’s heavenly. Eddie wishes he wasn’t wearing a shirt. 

“I need to piss.” 

“Deal with it,” Eddie says, rubbing his face against his shirt. It’s not the same one he wore while they had sex yesterday, but it’s almost the same colour. Eddie kind of wants to put his mouth on it. Which is weird, but it’s early, and he’s sleepy, so he rolls with it. “You’re comfy.”

“Wow, thanks babe, that’s what every guy wants to hear,” Richie says, stroking through his hair, tugging on it gently. 

“Mmmm.” Eddie doesn’t have a hair-pulling kink, but he could probably develop one. “You’re soft.”

Richie is quiet for a second, and then shifts under him. “Yeah, I mean, I can’t deny that.”

“Big...soft...pillow man,” Eddie says on a yawn. He buries his face back into the center of his chest. “Suffocate me.”

“That would be very easy,” Richie says. “Come on, Eds, I really gotta piss.”

“Two more minutes,” Eddie says, hand snaking up Richie’s side, and then trailing back down, over the soft rise of his love handles, to try to sneak up under his shirt. 

Richie catches his hand quickly. “No more minutes. I will piss in this bed.”

“No you won’t,” Eddie says. “I would murder you.” He tries to tug his hand free, but he just woke up five minutes ago, and he’s not at his strongest. Richie’s stronger than him anyway. Without even trying.

“It wouldn’t be on purpose,” Richie says, and then bodily rolls both of them over. 

“Mmmm,” Eddie says, grunting a little at the weight of him. “Crush me with your huge body.”

“Again, Eds, I wouldn’t have to try,” Richie says, and then gets out of bed and disappears into the bathroom. 

Eddie stays in bed, because it’s Sunday and he’s been practicing slothfulness. Also he’s kind of hoping Richie will come back and fuck him yet. 

He hears the shower start a minute later, which kind of makes him doubt that’s going to happen. He considers getting up and joining Richie in there, but he’s too sleepy, and not quite horny enough. So he dozes, and presses his face into Richie’s pillow to smell him, and rolls over to grind his dick into the sheets, just a little. He’s still optimistic. 

But after a while, he heard the door to the bathroom open again, and Richie only returns to the bedroom to put on some clothes. Eddie sighs in disappointment, and gives up on his dream of morning sex. Maybe next time. 

Eventually, he drags himself out of bed and into the bathroom, and then the kitchen. Richie is leaning against the counter next to the fridge, picking at an orange. 

“Morning,” Eddie says as he passes by to get a cereal bowl. He glances at Richie with a frown. “Why are you wearing a hoodie?”

“S’cold,” Richie mutters, finally deeming an orange slice clear of any white bits and sticking it in his mouth. 

“It’s the middle of fucking summer in LA,” Eddie says. “If you’re cold, turn off the AC.” 

Richie shrugs, continues eating in silence. 

Eddie ignores him in favour of getting down a box of Froot Loops and pouring them into his bowl. Freedom has never tasted so sweet. (But only on weekends. Eddie can only handle so much rebellion.) 

He’s chewing on his first mouthful before he looks at Richie again, still standing by the counter, eating his orange. He’s wearing a _lot_ of clothes, now that Eddie thinks about it. Not just the hoodie, but full sweats, too, instead of just walking around in his boxers like he usually does at home. “Are you getting sick?” he asks suspiciously. 

“No,” Richie says, and then seems to change his mind and says, “Maybe.”

Eddie narrows his eyes. “You’re acting weird.”

“No I’m not,” Richie says. 

“Come here.”

Richie glances at him, seems to weigh his options, and then sighs and walks over to stand in front of him. Eddie reaches for the front of his shirt to pull him in closer, but Richie flinches away visibly. Eddie stares at him dumbly, and Richie goes red. “Stop,” he says, looking away from Eddie pointedly.

“Stop what? I didn’t even touch you!”

“Don’t perceive me today,” Richie says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t like it.”

“Don’t— I can’t _look at you?”_ Eddie says incredulously. 

Richie shrugs, shifting away from him. “I look gross today.”

Eddie blinks, and then squints at him. “You look exactly the same as you always do.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

Eddie spreads his hands entreatingly. “Oh, come on, Rich. As if that’s an insult.”

Richie shrugs, doesn’t look at him. 

“Richie,” Eddie says seriously. “I look at you every day. I like looking at you.”

Richie shrugs again. He tugs on the ends of his hoodie strings. “Can’t see why,” he mutters. 

Eddie is struck dumb. He can’t— He can’t see _why? He can’t see why?_ “I’m sorry, is it not obvious by how often I lose my mind over how badly I want to have sex with you?” 

Richie snorts a little. “Yeah, because I have a big dick.”

Eddie has to take a moment to absorb that, and then to get a handle on his own disbelief. “Okay, well, first of all it’s because I’m in fucking love with you,” he says shortly, and Richie does lift his head to shoot him a small, crooked smile at that. Eddie wants to smack him a little. But mostly himself. “And _secondly_ it’s because you’re hot as _fuck._ And _thirdly_ is because you have a big dick. That’s an extra treat, directly from God, et cetera et cetera.”

Richie is still tugging on his hoodie strings. “You don’t have to say that for my sake.”

“I’m not!” Eddie says. “Oh my god, Richie, when have I ever implied that you’re not fucking hot?”

Richie gives him a short, wry look. “All you do is call me huge and...fat.”

“What?” Eddie almost yelps it. “No I fucking don’t!”

“Okay, you don’t say it like that, but.” Richie shrugs. “Like, it’s not like you’re lying when you call me big and soft. I’m just being stupid.”

Eddie is nearly speechless. “Rich,” he says beseechingly. “When I call you big it’s a _compliment.”_

Richie huffs a laugh, like he’s joking. 

“I’m fucking serious,” Eddie says, gesticulating wildly with one hand. His cereal is going soggy in front of him. “You think I don’t like it?”

“You spend, like, two hours a day making sure you don’t end up with a body like mine,” Richie points out. 

“Okay, for one thing, if I didn’t work out I’d just look like a fucking twink, _not_ like you,” Eddie says. “And secondly, what I like on my body does _not_ translate to what I like on yours. Which, I have to repeat, is hot as fuck.”

Richie snorts, gesturing towards his torso. “No one thinks this is _hot,_ Eds. I don’t know what magazine covers you’ve been looking at—”

“No, shut up, I do _not_ get my taste in men from magazine covers,” Eddie says, cutting him off. “Rich, oh my god, this is what I’m _into.”_ It’s his turn to gesture towards him vaguely. “You’re fucking big and it’s _hot._ I want you to crush me all the time. Sometimes I see you from the back and the width of your shoulders makes my dick hard.”

Richie starts to get a little colour around his neck, which is a good sign, at least. “I’ve seen myself in the mirror, Eds,” he says. 

“Not through my eyes you haven’t,” Eddie says. “I guarantee I’d find you hot no matter what your body shape was but you’re like. My _ideal_ type, no fucking lie. I think even if I wasn’t in love with you I’d want you to fuck me.”

That makes Richie laugh a little. He shrugs. “I’m just being stupid today,” he mutters. 

Eddie chews on the inside of his cheek and looks up at him from his chair. He tips his head to the side. “Richie,” he says, and waits for him to look at him. “I think you should take me to bed.”

Richie sighs. “You don’t have to do that, Eds.”

“Oh, trust me. This is self-serving.” Eddie spreads his knees wide and looks up at Richie through his lashes. “I really, _really_ think you should pick me up right now and take me to bed.”

Richie’s neck goes red. He looks down at Eddie, gaze flicking to the bulge of his half-hard cock. He licks his lips. “Yeah?”

 _“Yeah.”_

Richie reaches out a tentative hand, and the next second Eddie is up out of his chair and pulling him down roughly into a kiss that is instantly deep and dirty. He licks into Richie’s mouth filthily, one hand curled tight in the mess of hair at the back of his head, and Richie moans softly into it, both hands on Eddie’s waist. It’s a sloppy kiss, no finesse in Eddie’s fervour, but it’s _good,_ wickedly hot, and Eddie sinks into it, licks the taste of Richie’s orange from his tongue, sucks it into his mouth. Richie’s hands slide down to his ass and squeeze. 

Eddie moans and rips his mouth away. “Pick me up,” he pants. 

Richie obliges, hands slipping down to his thighs and then hoisting him almost effortlessly to wrap them around his waist. He staggers a step back and then steadies, already kissing Eddie again, now pressing up into him. 

“God,” Eddie groans, legs tight around his thick waist. “You’re so fucking strong, _shit.”_

“I’m just a big guy,” Richie says with a huff of laughter. 

“I _know,”_ Eddie says, with feeling, and then focuses his attention on kissing the living hell of out him. 

They make it to their room eventually, albeit after bumping into a number of doorframes and pieces of furniture. Eddie doesn’t mind, wrapped up in shoving his tongue down Richie’s throat. _God_ he loves kissing him, the roughness of his stubble against his lips, the familiar slick heat of Richie’s mouth. It drives him wild. 

And then Richie sits down hard on the bed, and Eddie falls with him, wrapped around him, trying to touch as much of him as once as he can. “Fuck,” he mutters, pushing his dick into the soft roll of his stomach through three layers of clothing. He scrabbles at the front of his sweater. “Take these off.”

Richie tries to catch his hands. “Eds—”

“Please?” Eddie says quickly. “I love seeing you.”

He can hear the click of Richie’s throat as he swallows, and he’s quiet for a long, heavy moment. “Can I put it back on later if I want to?”

Eddie catches his face in his hands and kisses him, firm and sure. “Course, Rich.”

Richie smiles a little against his mouth, and then leans back to tug his sweater up. 

It’s a bit of a struggle, in this position, to get it off, but Eddie doesn’t mind, because it means he gets to watch the unveiling more slowly, savour it. Richie _doesn’t_ go around shirtless that often, so seeing his bare torso is still a gift. Eddie’s eyes rake over him greedily as the sweater goes up and takes the t-shirt underneath with it, revealing his thick, soft middle, the trail of dark hair leading down into the waist of his sweatpants, his broad chest, his _pecs._ God, his pecs. Eddie was never much of a tits guy until he realized he was gay as fuck. 

Eddie drags a palm up from Richie’s stomach to the center of his chest, against the grain of the hair there, and Richie squawks, still caught in his sweater and now trying to belatedly take off his glasses. Eddie laughs, and plucks them off his face for him, and then pushes him down to lie along the mattress and slides down to press a wet kiss to his sternum. Richie makes a soft, punched-out sound, and yanks his sweater the rest of the way off. 

“Mmm,” Eddie hums, handing him back his glasses so that he can smooth over his shoulders with both hands. “God you’re just… _so_ fucking broad. There’s just something that’s fucking _hot_ about the fact that you can cover me completely.”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Richie says breathlessly. 

“I _know_ it doesn’t, it’s just— You’re fucking _big,_ god, I’m so into it.” Eddie rubs his palms down Richie’s arms, leans down to suck a hickey under one collarbone, will absolutely lose his mind if he doesn’t get his mouth on him immediately. 

“You’re laying it on a bit thick, babe.”

“I’m _not,_ Richie, I’m literally fucking not.” Eddie scrapes his teeth over a blooming mark. “I’m fucking serious, one time I saw the silhouette of your body through the shower door and I popped a boner.”

“Now you’re just making shit up,” Richie says, voice breaking as Eddie mouths across his chest to suck another mark into him. 

“That’s the sad thing, Rich, I’m _not even._ I cannot even begin to express to you— I see your shoulders or your shirt rides up or whatever and I think, _god, I want that man to fuck me senseless.”_

Richie makes a pathetic noise. “Yeah. Let me.”

Eddie laughs into the soft hair on his chest and says, “Not a chance. I’m fucking _busy.”_

He seals his mouth over one nipple. Richie arches into it with a sharp, _“Fuck!”_

Eddie grins, feeling feral. God, he just— “I just want to get my mouth all over you,” he breathes, because he should fucking _say it._ He obviously needs to say it. “Jesus, I just—” He laves over the same nipple with the flat of his tongue, opens his mouth wide around it, lets the soft swell of his chest fill it. Richie groans, a hand at the back of his head, and Eddie feels dizzy with it all. How badly he wants, and how hot it makes him that he _gets it._ He’s rock hard now, dick rubbing up against Richie’s thigh, and fuck, that _too._ “Get up farther on the bed,” he breathes, mouth watering. “Take off your pants.”

Richie scrambles to obey as soon as Eddie’s climbed off him, and Eddie takes his own shirt off while he watches, cock throbbing. There’s a wet patch at the front of Richie’s boxers to match the one on Eddie’s, and the shape of his cock through them is so tempting. But Eddie’s not that far yet. 

“God, your thighs,” he breathes, moving to kneel between Richie’s spread legs. He settles his hands on both of his knees and then slides them up through soft hair, fingers spread wide to span the tops of his thighs. “So fucking thick. I could fuck them and my dick wouldn’t reach the other side.”

Richie swallows audibly. “Yeah.”

“I’d suffocate myself in these thighs,” Eddie says, palming the backs of them as he lowers his face to press it into the soft, warm inside, pressing his tongue into the skin there, just under the hem of his boxer briefs, kissing it softly before giving a sharp, hard suck. Richie hisses and closes his thighs around his head on instinct, and Eddie moans his approval. 

“Shit, Eddie,” Richie says brokenly. 

Eddie ignores him to turn his head and suck a matching mark into the other thigh. God, Richie’s going to be _littered_ in hickeys and bite marks after this, and Eddie fucking _loves_ it. 

Richie makes a noise, and Eddie lifts his head, rests his cheek against the top of his thigh to look up the length of his body, breathing hard. Richie looks down at him, eyes dark and red-faced, and says, “Jesus, Eddie, the way you look right now—”

“What, turned on as fuck?” Eddie says. “Now you’re getting it.”

“I really don’t,” Richie breathes, sounding awed. 

“Let me make it very simple, then,” Eddie says. “The only way you could look any hotter right now is if I came all over you.”

Eddie sees, four inches from his face, the way Richie’s cock twitches at that. “Shit,” he breathes. 

Eddie smirks. “You like that?”

Richie only nods. 

“I want to do so many filthy things to you,” Eddie tells him, voice low, one palm slipping up over his hip to pet over the gorgeous curve of his belly. “I want to put my mouth on every inch of you, and to be honest I want to put my dick into every dip and fold. There is _nothing_ I would change. I want all of you, all the time, exactly as you are.”

Richie’s throat bobs, eyes wide and black behind his glasses. “What about right now?” he says breathlessly. 

“Hm?”

Richie’s hips twitch under Eddie’s cheek. “What do you want to do right now?”

A deep, fathomless hunger gnaws at Eddie as he lifts up onto his knees and smooths his palms up from Richie’s thighs, over his hips and the roll of his waist, up his soft sides, and land on his chest. His pecs fill Eddie’s hands, two heavy handfuls of it, and he swallows thickly. “Honestly?” he says, and Richie nods. Eddie grins. “I kind of want to fuck your tits.”

Richie gapes at him. Early morning sun streams across him from the window. “Seriously?”

Eddie shrugs a little, rubbing the pad of his thumb over Richie’s nipple. “If you’ll let me.”

Richie’s hair spills across his forehead messily in a way that makes him look a little wrecked already. “Would that be hot?” he says. “For you?”

“Shit, _yeah,_ definitely.” Eddie’s mouth waters at the thought of it. “I’ll come on your chest.”

“Fuck,” Richie breathes, hands lifting to grip Eddie’s hips. “Now?”

Eddie wants him so viscerally that it feels like a physical entity inside him. He thinks he bares his teeth more than he smiles. “Always.”

Admittedly, it takes Eddie a bit of time to get there. He moves to take off his underwear, but he gets distracted closing his mouth around Richie’s nipple, and then leaving a trail of bite marks down his torso, clustering around the curve of his stomach. Eddie can’t get enough of him, the way he feels under him, but also the sounds Richie makes, the way he squirms and moans and hisses and gasps, stomach jumping, hips moving restlessly. Eddie can’t stop tracing the line of hair down the center of his chest with his tongue, scraping his fingernails gently up his side, into his armpit. Richie whines, and chants some nonsense, and says, “Eddie, please, please, oh fuck.”

“Please what?” Eddie says, kissing his stomach and pulling down his boxers. His cock springs free, thick and hard and leaking at the tip. 

“I don’t know,” Richie says breathlessly, hitching his hips up, pushing his cock closer to Eddie’s mouth. “I love you.”

Eddie’s chest goes tight and warm, and he climbs up Richie’s body to kiss him quickly, one hand at his jaw. “Love you too,” he says softly. “Hot stuff.”

Richie huffs a laugh, and then shuts up very quickly as Eddie kicks off his underwear to straddle his waist, both of them finally completely naked. “Shit,” Richie breathes, reaching out to thumb the tip of his cock. “You’re fucking _dripping.”_

“Yeah, because I’m fucking _horny,”_ Eddie says, hooking a hand around the back of Richie’s neck to draw him up and stuffing another pillow behind him. “God, look what you do to me.”

“I’ve just been _laying here,”_ Richie says, more awed than anything. He smears precum around the head of his cock indulgently. 

“Ex _actly,_ fuck, you don’t even have to do anything, I just have to _see you.”_ Richie’s cock rubs tantalizingly into the cleft of his ass, and Eddie pulls away from it, shifts forward, farther up his torso. He leans down, until his face is close to Richie’s and his cock is resting along the dip in his chest. “Get the lube for me, babe?”

Richie’s hand is clumsy in its fervour, fumbling around his bedside drawer for the bottle. His other hand grabs a handful of Eddie’s ass, holding him close. In this position, with Richie curled in, his mouth is just a few inches away from the tip of Eddie’s cock, lips parted like he wants to swallow it. He looks dazed, and desperate, and Eddie wants to wreck him. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs as he takes the bottle and flips the cap open. Richie’s eyes widen, and Eddie bites his lip against the shock of cold as he pours slick liquid over his dick and rocks his hips for the first time. 

Richie moans as if he’s the one getting any stimulation. “Shit, Eds,” he breathes, hunching his shoulders so that the cleavage is deeper. Eddie fucks into it gently, trying to find a good angle, a good rhythm. Lube mixes with precum and smears over Richie’s chest hair, and Eddie bites his lip and leans into it, rocking his hips back and forth, back and forth. It’s intensely erotic, somehow, even though the pressure isn’t the best. There’s just something about the way it looks, his cock slipping between Richie’s pecs, cushioned on either side, with Richie’s chest absolutely _covered_ in hickeys that Eddie left there. And Richie’s mouth hanging open so close to the tip when he thrusts forward, like he’s hoping to catch a taste of it. 

“Christ, Richie, you look _so—”_ Eddie doesn’t even know what to say. “Fuck, here, sweetheart, give me your hand.”

Richie does, releasing his iron grip on Eddie’s ass, and Eddie guides it to his dick, presses it to cup over his chest so that his cock is fucking into a tighter tunnel. The head pokes through the other side, and Richie laps at it quickly. 

“Shit,” Eddie hisses, hips jerking. “God, Rich, you’re so hot, I’m going to lose my mind. This feels incredible, I can’t believe you ever thought—”

“Shut up, shut up, fuck, _Eddie.”_ Richie is breathing hard, and sweat mixes into the slickness on his chest. “I mean, fuck, Jesus _Christ.”_

Eddie laughs a little, hips speeding up, almost frantic. His cock makes wet sounds, pressed between Richie’s hand and chest, fucking between his pecs, and he wishes he had a free hand to take a picture, or a video or something. Richie’s not getting the best view. “I feel kind of insane,” he says breathlessly, giddy with it. “God, this is amazing. You’re so fucking big, Rich, look how wide I have to spread my legs around you, _shit,_ look how your hand covers my dick, you’re so hot, I love you _so much.”_

Richie moans, and Eddie pushes two fingers into his mouth impulsively, rubs them against his tongue. Richie trembles under him, and Eddie fingerfucks his mouth at the same time that he fucks his chest, until he’s moaning around it, sucking on his fingers and shifting his hips desperately. 

Eddie grins, and slips his fingers out, and says, “How do you want to come?”

“Anything,” Richie breathes, eyes watering, mouth red and wet. “Anything, it won’t take much.” And then, “Come on me, please, Eds—”

“Yeah,” Eddie says quickly, and leans into it, squeezing Richie’s sides between his knees and thighs to push his pecs closer together. He fucks into the cleft of them sloppily, heat building in his stomach, pressure in his groin. He’s so incredibly turned on, and sparks of pleasure skitter up his spine, gather behind his knees. “God, _fuck,_ just a little more—”

Richie retracts the hand not cupping Eddie’s cock from his ass and uses it to pour more lube on his chest, and then drops the bottle and gathers some up on his fingers. He reaches around Eddie to his rim, pushing one finger into him easily, and then two, like Eddie had in his mouth. He holds them there, and Eddie whines brokenly as he fucks back onto them, and then forward against his chest, and it’s incredible. 

“Shit,” he hisses, “so good, Rich, so good, I love the way you feel, you’re perfect—”

“Do it,” Richie urges, eyes wide and intense, watching him. “Do it, Eds, fuck, come on me, come on baby, you can come.”

Eddie comes fast and hard, splattering come across Richie’s chest, hitting his throat and chin. Eddie jerks his hips through it, dizzy and moaning, and when he stops Richie keeps fucking him with his fingers until Eddie whines for him to stop. Shivers wrack his body, and he tries to catch his breath quickly, propped up on weak arms over Richie. 

“Holy shit,” Richie breathes. 

Eddie laughs shakily, coming down from it. “Yeah. Holy _shit.”_

“Eddie,” Richie says seriously. “You are so fucking hot.”

Eddie hums, and scoots back so that he’s sitting on Richie’s stomach, and drags his fingers through the mess he made. “That’s my line.”

“I still can’t believe you think I’m hot,” Richie says, watching Eddie smear his own come around with wide eyes.

“I think you’re fucking _sexy as hell,”_ Eddie says, gathering come on his thumb and then moving it to rub over his nipple. “And now I think you need to _come.”_

Richie’s breath leaves him in a huff, and his eyes go dark. “Yeah?”

Eddie grins and slides down Richie’s body, feels his thick cock nudge between his legs on his way down. _God_ if he hadn’t just come, he would sit on that dick. 

Instead, he picks up his hand from Richie’s chest, smeared in come and lube, and wraps it around his cock, stroking it slow and firm. 

Richie groans, head tipping back. “Oh, shit, I’m not gonna last.”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes, stroking him steadily. He’s so hard it looks painful, precum dipping from the tip, and he’s so big Eddie can barely get a hand around him. _“God_ you’re hot,” he says, pressing his thumb under the head, picking up speed. 

“You just like my dick,” Richie says to the ceiling, voice breaking. 

“I like all of you,” Eddie says. “But I _do_ fucking love your dick.” 

He chooses that as the perfect moment to fit the head of it into his mouth, and Richie swears loudly, fucking up into his mouth in surprise. Eddie would grin if he could, lips stretched wide around him, tongue flat against the underside, tasting his own come on him. He sucks sloppily, fast and messy and dripping saliva, and Richie fists one hand in his hair and makes shocked, desperate sounds. And Eddie loves this, loving sucking dick, loves sucking _Richie’s_ dick and has gotten pretty fucking good at it. He fists the base of his cock with one hand and sucks over the rest, fits as much of it as he can, lets it go as far as he’s capable of taking it. Richie gets louder and more incoherent, visibly trying not to thrust into his mouth, and Eddie loves him like this, out of control with pleasure. 

He would goad Richie along if he could, but his mouth is stuffed full, so all he does is hum, and gaze up at Richie through his lashes, and reach up to rub his free hand through the drying mess on his chest. Richie looks down at him, and sobs, and then he comes all at once, so hard Eddie can’t swallow it all. 

He keeps Richie’s cock in his mouth as long as he can, come dribbling from the corners of his mouth, tonguing at him gently until Richie whines and tugs him away. “Holy fuck, Eds,” he says, like it’s a complaint, shivering violently. 

Eddie smiles at him broadly. Both of them are utterly wrecked, come everywhere, completely fucked out. And it feels fucking _amazing._ And Eddie gets to feel like this with him _all the time._

“Do you believe me now?” Eddie says, a little breathless. 

“What?” Richie says, head tipped back on his pillow, still panting heavily. 

“That I think you’re hot as shit?”

Richie laughs softly, cracking one eye open to look at him. “Yeah, I think I might be starting to.”

“Good.” Eddie stretches out beside him, one arm and one leg wrapped around him. “To really make sure, though, in five minutes we’re gonna get up and fuck in the shower.”

“Oh my god.” Eddie can hear the smile in his voice. “Okay, fine.”

“And I still think you’re comfortable,” Eddie says, closing his eyes and pressing against him. “And I _will_ fuck your tits again sometime.”

“Okay,” Richie says with a hum. “I count on it.”


End file.
